


The Gilded Youth

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Daddy Issues, M/M, Sad Little Rich Boy, Slutty Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren was blessed with more money than parental supervision, and a proclivity to surround himself with older men who smelled like smoke and musk. </p><p>Or; a tale of love and filth in 4 parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gilded Youth

The light woke him first. It was harsh and thick, stabbing its way through his eyelids. Eren let out a groan of frustration and tried to turn away from it to no avail. His room was essentially a solarium, all windows and very little wall. Even his trusted method of hiding his head under the pillows wasn’t cutting it this morning. He slowly opened his eyes, anguished by his inability to fall back asleep. To his horror, he saw that all the drapes were drawn. 

_What monster would do such a thing?_ he thought. _Ah._ Mikasa. She must be the one responsible for this.

“MIKAS-“

“No need to shout, Eren. I’m right here.” 

Walking up from behind Eren’s massive ivory headboard (custom made, very expensive), appeared a lovely woman with dark hair clad in a pressed black dress and apron. She had slung over her arms neatly folded khaki slacks and a white linen shirt.

“Ugh,” Eren threw his arm over his eyes dramatically “Why did you do this to me?”

“Oh please. It’s nearly 10. It’s beyond me how one so young could sleep so much.” She admonished, throwing the clothes she was carrying at Eren. “I was in your closet for the best part of an hour looking for decent attire. Nearly everything you own is inappropriate or some awful garish color.”

Eren smirked. He finally began to lift his upper body up, stretching his slender limbs above his head as he reacquainted his body to the realm of the living. He began to sluggishly unbutton his nightshirt, an uncovered yawn distorting his pretty face.

“Don’t worry, Mikasa. According to father ‘it’s just a phase’ and I’m ‘expressing youthful frustrations through gaudy fashion trends’. ”

Mikasa smiled fondly at the still sleep-rumpled boy. “Well now, hopefully it’s a phase you grow out of soon then. You’ll be off to university in a couple of weeks, and you won’t have me there to help you clothe properly.”

“Tch. Don’t remind me. As if I’m looking forward to that deathtrap. I’m already trying to figure out how to fake a psychiatric illness so father won’t make me go.”

“As if you need to fake it at this point. With all the poison in your system, anyone would go mad.” Mikasa said dryly.

“Not this again, please.” Eren rolled his eyes, struggling to get both arms into the shirt at once. “I’ll stop smoking my cigarettes and drinking my scotch when hell freezes over! Or when father actually makes eye contact with me again. Whichever comes first.”

The amused maid simply stared on as Eren finally got the shirt on and buttoned, her slight smile never wavering from her delicate features.

“You are hopeless.”

She sighed and walked up to Eren’s bed, tousled his messy brown hair. Eren chuckled at the act of affection and playfully swatted her hand away. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yes. I am quite a case, aren’t I?”

A glimmer of sadness marred her expression, but she kept smiling.

“That’s right, my dear.”

No one knew Eren quite like Mikasa. She had began working on the estate as Eren’s nanny when he was just a toddler and she was merely a girl of 16. As he grew, she found herself becoming hopelessly attached to the boy. Perhaps it was the fact that Mikasa was always spending time with him, more so than Carla or Grisha ever were. Or maybe it was how adorable Eren was as a child, so very stubborn but sweet. His massive eyes always alight like emerald flames. It was only natural that when the Yeager's offered her a permanent position in the household as the maid, she enthusiastically agreed. How could she not? Her and her little Eren would be together for as long as they’d have her.

However, as Eren got older, she found herself wishing she hadn’t stayed. The years passed and almost right before her eyes, she saw her adorable Eren transform into someone else. He became an attractive young man who drank and smoked in his room, who escaped from home in the middle of the night to do God-knows-what. He became someone who would bring random men into his bed, let them use him up and left the dirtied sheets for Mikasa to clean the morning after. All of it was awful, but what was most painful to witness was the emptiness inside of Eren growing more every day.

She didn’t know where it came from, how it happened. He was a boy who had it all, never wanted for a thing. Carla’s family was old money, and Grisha was a celebrated doctor and professor of psychiatry. But they were never around. His mother was always heavily medicated, asleep or abroad. His father had more important things on his mind. It sometimes felt like she was the only one who noticed at all. The light in his eyes was gone, and deep down she knew she was powerless to bring it back.

A meaningful silence hung in the air for a brief second. As it was about to stretch on too long, Mikasa stood up straight and tapped her foot. An old habit of hers when she was in a hurry.

“I must get going, tea begins at noon. I have to make sure the cooks are on schedule with the food preparation. I left a tray of fruits and toast on your dresser. Please eat it and finish getting dressed.”

Eren nodded, “Right. Got it.”

He grabbed the trousers and hopped out of his lavish bed. He began to head towards the bathroom when Mikasa grabbed his shoulder. Eren startled a bit, looking down at her and seeing an unreadable expression clouding her face.

“Remember to be a gentleman this afternoon. The guests are colleagues of your father’s and he wants to make a good impression.” Mikasa then gave him a light kiss of the cheek, turned on her heels and softly shut the mahogany doors behind her.

—————

Eren studied himself in the mirror. He felt, decidedly, that khaki was just not his color. He looked so very boring, washed out and plain. Regardless, he continued to throw on the teal waistcoat Mikasa had graciously hung for him. He knew this event didn’t call for standing out. This wasn’t a night on the town with his other _bent_ friends, after all. His father was hosting a tea for the new professor in his department at Oxford, the last thing Grisha would want is for Eren to draw attention to himself and his ‘inversion’. 

“Just this once,” he muttered, echoing the words his tutor Armin had said the evening before. “I’ll play the good little son.”

He finished putting on his silk tie, for now satisfied with his reflection. He walked over to the gilded dresser, rummaged through the mess of rings and cufflinks on top. Finally finding his beloved secret key, he smirked and hid it in his breast pocket. If the event got too boring (which it would undoubtedly become), he could always just go down to the basement. He’d drink some spirits and listen to his grandfather’s old records as the intellectuals wasted time discussing mental health.

One glance at the clock told him he was going to make a fashionably late appearance. It was already half past noon. Eren smiled wickedly, imagining the excuses father was providing his guests for his absence. Probably something along the lines of, _‘That boy, he probably got lost in a medical textbook. He’s always studying so hard, prepping for college!’._ He let out a humorless laugh, took a final bite of his half-eaten peach and left for the garden.

Walking down the grand staircase, Eren found his imagination running wild. He briefly thought about what would happen if instead of following the door towards the grounds, he just continued walking straight onwards. What if he just kept walking out the massive ebony entrance, down the path into the town, towards the bus station, out of Trost…but that was as far as he would let the fantasy go. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, adjusted his tie once more. It was warm today, he should have grabbed a handkerchief before leaving his room. Father will think he’s being irresponsible again.

_‘You never think ahead’_

The boy shook his head. He closed his eyes, breathed in deep. He turned right and walked towards the door that led to the courtyard.

—————

“Ah! There’s my boy!” Grisha Yeager boomed, arising from his seat at the small white table where he and his guests were intimately gathered. He stopped in front of Eren, clapping both hands on his shoulders. He was beaming drunkenly and not quite looking directly at his son, but rather at a point just beyond the top of his head.

Eren cringed inwardly at the show of false familiarity his father was putting on.

“Hello, father.” He smiled tightly.

He turned his attention to the company that were currently also rising to their feet. Eren was caught off-guard by how striking they both appeared. One was a tall, muscular blonde with a strong brow and a commanding air. Next to him stood a smaller man, but no less enthralling. His hair was black as ink and he stared at Eren with sharp eyes. He had a devastatingly handsome face with a stern countenance, it made Eren unexpectedly flushed.

“Uh- H-hello there. Forgive me for my tardiness. I got caught up in some reading.” he stammered to the two men. It was an outright lie, but Eren was used to lying.

Grisha laughed and clapped him once again on the shoulder.

“Haha! My boy always has his head buried in a book,” He turned back to the company, spectacles twinkling in the sun, “I told you so. Just like his old man.”

“Seems like you certainly raised a fine one here, Grisha.” said the taller of the two. Eren noted that he had a German accent. He smiled kindly and walked over to them.

“Hello, Eren. I’m Dr. Erwin Smith and this here,” he motioned towards the other man who simply nodded in acknowledgment “is my research assistant Levi Ackerman. We’ll be working quite closely with your father in the coming months. I’ve heard very much about you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet.”

He held out his hand. Eren stared for a split second before taking it, returning the man’s smile.

“Pleasure to meet you as well, Dr. Smith.” he said sweetly before setting his gaze on Levi. “And you as well, Mr. Ackerman.”

Levi fidgeted slightly, as if made uncomfortable by the recognition.

“The pleasure is all mine.” he said before promptly sitting down again. His voice was deep and rich, the same thick German accent evident in his speech. It made Eren feel things in the pit of his stomach he only ever felt in the back of car or bent over a desk.

“Come, Eren. Sit with us! We were just discussing the importance of control group sizes over this lovely bottle of Cabernet.” Grisha said excitedly, also returning to his chair. 

Dr. Smith nodded, settling himself between Grisha and Levi. “Indeed. Quite a refreshing experience, discussing research method and theory with your father.”

“Riveting. Glad I came just in time.”

The sarcasm seemed to be lost on his father and Erwin, but not on Levi who snorted in amusement. His cold eyes locked with Eren’s, and they glinted with something the boy recognized as interest. Eren smirked at him appreciatively, taking the empty chair to his right.

The conversation continued on between Erwin and Grisha, going in directions Eren had no intention of following. After a couple of minutes of nodding along numbly, he reached for the large wine bottle at the center of the table. A strong hand stopped him from grabbing it, enclosing large fingers around Eren’s own delicate ones.

“I’ll pour this for you. It’s a deceptively heavy bottle.”

“Uh, I could…alright…” Eren conceded, surprised but not unpleasantly so. He watched as the man lifted the wine with one arm, seemingly unfazed by the weight of it. Eren saw Levi’s biceps as they flexed under the white sleeves of his shirt and couldn’t help but stare at the strength displayed through it. He felt heat rising to his cheeks and sweat slightly prickle at the edges of his ears. _My, it was a warm day._

“It’s a fine wine. It is one of my favorites.” Levi said quietly, just for Eren to hear.

Eren glanced at his father and Erwin, saw that they were too deeply engrossed with their own conversation to listen in on them, before turning his attentions back to Levi.

“Is it? I’m not crazy about red wines. I prefer the white variety.”

“Because they’re sweeter.” He didn’t ask. It was a statement.

Eren stared at the man, a bit shocked, “Yes, actually.”

“Heh. You truly are as young as you look.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Levi’s face remained impassive, “I do implore that you give this one an honest chance. It is not sweet, but it is a taste one might find difficult to replicate. You will find yourself converted.”

It was no use retaliating the obvious insult, Eren realized. The younger man raised the glass to his mouth, gracefully bringing the rim to his cupid-bow lips.  He kept his eyes locked on Levi’s, his heartbeat becoming erratic. Eren saw a fire in the silver depths, one he was only used to seeing in the men that would buy him drinks at the bars. He felt the familiar heat pooling inside of him, took a sip of the wine. It was dry, bitter like an unripe fruit. He found it strangely delicious, unlike any wine he had ever tasted. He cursed himself for realizing that Levi was, in fact, right.

“It is…” Eren put down the glass, “acceptable.”

The man’s face lifted into a handsome smile, “I am glad. Perhaps I could show you some more _acceptable_ wines in the future.” He laid back into his chair, lifting his own full glass in the air. “It is…a particular passion of mine.”

The young man’s heart fluttered at the statement. The future. Levi wanted to meet again. “Wine is a worthy thing to have passion for, Mr. Ackerman.” Eren took another sip, a bigger one this time.

“I like to think so as well. I have other passions, of course. Wine is one of many.”

“And what may those other passions be?”

“That is not something you just ask a man, you brat.” 

Eren laughed, leaning in closer to Levi. “I apologize, Mr. Ackerman. I am afraid I do not know how to navigate myself within polite conversation.”

“You are a shameless little minx, aren't you?”

“I’m afraid you have not known me long enough to know just how shameless I could be, sir.”

Levi’s smirk deepened, “I think I have a pretty good idea. You really don’t recall meeting me before?”

The boy furrowed his brow. _Meeting_? He was pretty sure this was his first time meeting Mr. Ackerman. He was confident that he would have remembered a man as handsome as him.

“I believe you’re mistaken. I hardly ever attend my father’s functions, I wouldn’t hav-“

At this, Levi chuckled mirthfully. “Silly child. It most definitely was not one of your fathers functions I met you at. In fact, quite the opposite.” He lowered his voice further, “I knew you were drunk, but I didn’t know you would forget me completely.”

Drunk? If he’d been drunk then- Oh. _Oh._ Eren blushed furiously. Sina, a couple of nights ago. Eren remembered getting so inebriated that he couldn’t stand up on his own. It’d been a rough night. Jean had ended their “mutually beneficial” friendship in favor of pursuing something more serious. Eren had been fine with it, but he couldn't help feeling a bit abandoned. He hated feeling.

So he’d drank until he didn’t feel anything. He got vague flashes of a solid figure with raven black hair helping him up off the floor, telling him not to cry…and then nothing. Eren’s next recollection was waking up in his own bed, wearing the same clothes from the night before. When he asked Mikasa about it, she’d just said a man drove him to the gate and dropped him off at the door. She’d said so in a disapproving tone so Eren just assumed it was one of the many male suitors he had. Perhaps Reiner or Nile. He hadn’t thought to ask more questions.

Eren said in a frantic whisper, “The man who helped me home, was that you?”

Levi shrugged. “Perhaps. Were you the boy crying his eyes out alone in a bar at 2 a.m. on Monday?”

Eren didn’t know it was possible, but he felt himself getting redder. He was about to stutter out a response, when-

“Levi, what did you think of Dr. Zoe’s research findings in the latest academic newsletter?” Grisha suddenly butted in, oblivious to the charged atmosphere occurring between the assistant and his own son. Eren was about to tell his father to shut up, when he felt a strong hand on his thigh; Mr. Ackerman’s hand. And that most definitely shut _him_ up.

Levi set down his wine, answering the question naturally, “It wasn’t exactly what I thought shitty glasses would write concerning past-life regression therapy. Then again, it’s a stupid subject to begin with.”

“Don’t be so dismissive, Levi,” Erwin chuckled “I think it’s a fascinating, albeit niche, research topic.”

The man shrugged. “It’s about as fascinating as her obsession with non-existent giants.”

“Giants?” Eren said slowly, mind still focused on the hand lightly caressing his upper-leg. 

“Don’t worry about that, my boy,” Grisha slurred. His drink was catching up with him. “Our resident scientist just has a vivid imagination.” He then reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. “Hannes!”

An aging man with blonde hair appeared from behind a garden pillar next to Grisha. The butler, Hannes, was red in the face. He was probably as drunk as his father, Eren thought idly.

“Yes, sir?”

“Hannes, bring out the food for myself and the guests. We are getting quite hungry.”

“Right away, sir.” The butler bowed and stumbled his way drunkenly towards the entrance to the kitchens.

“If you don’t mind, Grisha, I would like to freshen up before I eat.” Levi said as he squeezed Eren’s knee under the table. “Perhaps you could direct me to the washroom?”

“Oh, of course! Although it might be a bit confusing, so Eren will guide you. Won’t you, Eren?”

Eren smiled innocently, “Of course father.” He turned his head and looked straight at Levi. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t?”

—————

Levi slammed Eren against the wall as soon as he locked the basement door behind him. It caught Eren by surprise but he had little chance to process it before Levi’s hot mouth was all over his. His mouth was soft, his kiss invasive.

Eren wrapped his legs around him for support, throwing his arms around his broad shoulders. Levi trailed his kisses down Eren’s neck, all hot breath and teeth.

“There’s a couch at the bottom of the stairs,” Eren said breathlessly. “I want you to fuck me on it.”

Levi chuckled against Eren’s skin, “That filthy mouth of yours, I should do something about it.”

Eren laughed, legs tightening around the man. “You _can_ do something about it, but at the top of the stairs is not where it’s going to happen.”

Levi suddenly grabbed Eren’s ass, hoisted him up higher in his arms and carried him down the stairs as if he was as light as a stack of magazines. He laid him down on the large couch, squeezing his hands around the fleshy mounds and nipping at Eren’s small chin.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you,” Levi rasped, his accent making the words almost unintelligible. Eren sighed pleasurably, loving the rough handling.

“Why, ah-“ Eren groaned, “Why didn’t you?”

Levi was unbuckling Eren’s belt while his other hand palmed at Eren’s erection through the material. “Because you were crying with some other man’s name on your lips.” he said, and if Eren didn’t know any better he would say there was a twinge of jealousy in his voice. “And you were so drunk you couldn’t even stand on your own.”

“AH!” Eren exclaimed, his cock free and Levi’s large and calloused hand wrapped around it. “He-he was no one…I’m just always-ah- so alone…” Eren panted, sweat collecting on his brow.

The raven-haired man leaned back, lifting Eren’s bottom and roughly taking Eren’s pants all the way off. “You’re lonely so you let anyone who will have you partake in your body?” he said viciously. He threw the damned khakis on the floor, and began unbuckling his own belt.

“Yes,” Eren breathed, unsure of what to say. Levi’s eyes were dangerous, it somehow made him harder. “I don’t really care who fucks me as long as someone does.”

Levi growled, “You really _are_ very young.” he grabbed the soft hair at the back of Eren’s head. “But don't mind if I grant you your wish.” And he dove back down over Eren, kissing all remaining words out of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my self-indulgent fanfiction! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did please leave some feedback, it's greatly appreciated <3 I will update every 2 days for this story.


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